


Let Me Look At You

by Fire_Bear



Series: EngSpa Week 2016 [4]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (only spoken about), Biting, Day 4, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, EngSpa Week 2016, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Bites, M/M, Scars, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7815769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Bear/pseuds/Fire_Bear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antonio is super excited to meet up with his long-distance boyfriend now that he'll be living nearby for the next year. But what is Arthur hiding under his wristband?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Look At You

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt #63 - not telling you what it is cause it’ll ruin the… surprise? story.
> 
> Actually had a different idea and started that till I thought it was unrealistic and had this sudden flash of an idea.

It took four years for Antonio to find out what was under Arthur's wristband.

He had never seen Arthur without it in all the time he'd known him. It was a large, black one with a little picture of a green bunny on it. Apparently, Arthur had found it at a craft fair in England somewhere. Having never been to Britain, even when he was living in Spain, Antonio imagined it to have been quite a quaint affair.

Instead of his home country, Antonio now lived in America and had since he was fourteen. Adjusting to the lifestyle and the language had been rough but he'd managed. In his last year of high school, he had taken part in the school's international project. They each had been given an e-pal and told to write e-mails to kids across the world to learn more about the varying cultures.

Antonio had gotten Arthur.

A year younger than him, Arthur had seemed rather irritating to Antonio. They had been polite at first. Then things got confrontational. But, oddly, instead of walking away as Antonio usually did or laughing it off, some of what Arthur said got under his skin and made him fume. Their arguments became legendary, especially when their fellow students heard about them and it soon dissolved into trying to one-up the other. When their teachers discovered what was happening, they made them apologise and try to start again.

After a while, they found something they both liked and, before either of them had truly realised it, they had become friends. When the programme was over, therefore, they exchanged their personal e-mail addresses and, from there, their Skype addresses. For a time, they didn't use the video call feature. The first time they did was the day Antonio graduated high school and Arthur called to congratulate him.

The younger boy was messy-haired and bright-eyed and Antonio immediately liked the smile on his face. When he waved, Antonio spotted the wristband and they had chatted about that. The conversation seemed to flow better than the e-mails or instant-messaging. So they arranged regular call-times. Even whilst Antonio was at college and dating men and women alike, he kept to the schedule. He was a witness to Arthur's A-Level results and when he entered his own desired university somewhere in London.

Over time, they both developed feelings for each other. Antonio noticed it slowly. At first he had been confused as to why he was so annoyed when Arthur missed a call. Then he noted the way he couldn't stop smiling while they were talking. After that had come the noticing of little details of Arthur's appearance, each one just as lovely as the last – even those rather bushy and messy eyebrows. Finally, when Arthur had blushingly admitted his feelings to Antonio while a little tipsy, Antonio knew what had been going on.

Arthur took some convincing, though. He didn't seem to believe that Antonio could like him in that sense. Antonio had insisted he did. He may also have said 'I love you' and other sweet nothings in Spanish, making Arthur blush. Once he had accepted it, Arthur and Antonio started calling each other 'boyfriend'.

Almost a year later, Arthur was spending his last year in university in America. And it just so happened to be in the city where Antonio now worked full-time in a small bakery-cum-café. He hadn't really worked out what he had wanted to do at college and so had taken a general course with no guaranteed job offer at the end of it. After much discussion with Arthur, he was thinking of taking up horticulture of some sort but he needed to save up enough money to apply for a second course. Not that he was holding his breath, of course.

Now that Arthur was coming to him, however, Antonio was sure he wasn't going to be able to save his money. He wanted to buy Arthur flowers and chocolates and cakes and cute little toys and take him on dates and drive him to beautiful places and- The list went on for so long that Francis and Gilbert had told him he'd probably run up a debt.

He didn't care, though: he was going to see his Arthur.

Trembling with excitement, Antonio watched the street outside the bakery. Today, Arthur would have settled into his dorm room. Today, Arthur was in America. Today, Arthur was so close that Antonio could practically taste the kisses. Today, Arthur would be coming to see him.

“Tonio,” said Francis with another barely suppressed sigh. “You're spilling the milk.”

“Wha-?!” Jumping at both the voice and his words, Antonio looked down to see that the milk jug he had been filling was overflowing. It flowed across the counter and dripped on his shoes. With an alarmed shriek – he didn't want to smell like milk when he met Arthur! – he jumped away, almost slipping on the messy floor. Gilbert suddenly appeared on his other side to steady him – and thrust a mop at him.

“Do you even remember where you are?” he asked Antonio, shaking his head as Antonio grimaced and got to work.

“Of course I do!” Antonio cried. “I mean, I had to tell Arthur where to meet me...”

Francis sighed. “Honestly, Antonio, sometimes I wonder how you got into college.”

“No, don't ask him that!” exclaimed Gilbert. “I bet he'll say something like, 'Arthur gave me the strength to get through my exams'!” Gilbert finished with a flourish, grinning vacantly in a (bad) imitation of Antonio. Then he smirked at the man who only shrugged.

“No, no,” said Francis, wagging a finger at Gilbert. “He calls him 'Artie'.”

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Gilbert replied, mockingly placing a contrite hand to his heart. “Let me rephrase that. He'd say, ' _Artie_ gave me the strength to get through my exams'!”

“I'm the only reason he remembered to study for them,” said a dry voice and the three of them looked up to find Arthur on the other side of the counter, smiling fondly at his boyfriend. Antonio's eyes widened as he gaped at his boyfriend, right there, in the flesh. Arthur's smile turned bashful as they all stared, ducking his head a little as a blush spread across his cheeks. Then he raised his left hand – the one with the wristband – and waved. “Hi.”

“Artie!” Antonio yelled. Without ceremony, he lunged across the counter (knocking over the too-full jug of milk), grabbed Arthur's shirt and dragged him into a kiss. It was a chaste one, far too short for Antonio's taste. Arthur was too shocked to respond and the cries of his friends made Arthur pull back almost immediately, wide-eyed.

“The milk!” Francis exclaimed.

“Again!” Gilbert added.

“Um,” said Arthur, warily. “I feel like I'm missing something here...”

“A hug?” Antonio suggested.

“You're covered in milk, Tonio!” Gilbert told him.

Raising his eyebrows, Arthur struggled to hide his amusement. “Are you doing something dumb again?” he asked.

“Only for you,” Antonio instantly replied with a dreamy smile.

The moment was ruined by Francis and Gilbert yanking Antonio back from the counter and shoving him towards the back. They only paused long enough for Francis to say, “We'll bring him back to you when he's more presentable.”

* * *

Once he'd been cleaned up, divested of his apron and sent home by Francis, Antonio took Arthur to his apartment so they could have some time alone. Together. Able to touch, to kiss, to simply be with each other. And more, if Arthur was willing. Antonio was both nervous and excited and he was trembling from the intensity of his emotions. Every time he glanced at Arthur on their walk home, he had to stop himself from pulling him into a passionate kiss.

As such, when they entered Antonio's small apartment, he immediately dragged Arthur into the living room and onto the threadbare couch. Arthur had barely caught his breath from the climb to the top of the building before Antonio was on him, kissing him, hands wandering, straddling him as he pinned him down. There were tongues and teeth and, when Antonio pulled back for breath, there was the delectable sight of Arthur. He was flushed and panting, his eyes dark with lust.

“Art-” Antonio began but he cut himself off, unable to continue. His happiness and joy were making him tear up and Arthur looked alarmed for a second.

“What-?” he said, reaching up to place his hands on Antonio's shoulders. “What's wrong, dear?”

The endearment made Antonio beam at his boyfriend. “I'm so happy. You're here!” He placed a gentle kiss on Arthur's forehead. “You're all mine.”

“Mm, of course. It's nothing to get worked up about,” Arthur told him, smirking.

Antonio laughed and quickly pushed a hand up Arthur's shirt. Finding the right spot, he laid his hand over Arthur's heart, feeling it pounding faster than it should. Arthur's gasp made him grin and he said, “Oh, really?”

“Shut up,” Arthur grumbled, his blush deepening as he looked away. “This is...”

“Hm?”

“It's you,” Arthur whispered, a happy smile appearing. “I never thought... It's been so long.”

“Mmhmm! We should make up for lost time.”

With that, Antonio pulled up Arthur's t-shirt and, with Arthur's help, removed it completely. Throwing it to the side, he took a moment to admire Arthur's smooth skin and then dove in, kissing across Arthur's face, his jaw and nibbling at his ear. Arthur gasped and squirmed beneath him, clutching at Antonio's shoulders. “We should-” he began only to break off with a gasp as Antonio moved lower, biting at his neck. “We should do this on a bed...” he continued, voice shaky. He made no move to get up, however, pulling Antonio closer instead.

Grinning, Antonio didn't answer, continuing on his way along Arthur's collarbone, leaving a string of love bites along the way to the music of Arthur's moans. After he was satisfied with the marks, he paused and looked down at Arthur: his boyfriend was breathing heavily, his eyes unfocussed. When he realised Antonio had stopped, he whined and looked up at him, blinking as he tried to work out what the problem was. As innocently as possible, Antonio said, “Do you want to move?”

Eyes narrowing, Arthur growled and, using his grip on Antonio's shoulders, pulled Antonio back down. Chuckling, Antonio began to kiss his way down Arthur's chest. Arthur's grip on him tightened as Antonio reached one of his nipples. Obliging his unspoken desire, Antonio licked it, revelling in Arthur's moan. Then he began to suck at it, biting occasionally. Whenever he bit him, Arthur's quiet moans became louder and his back arched, pushing that lovely chest into Antonio's face. The smell and taste of Arthur's skin was bewitching and Antonio ran a hand over Arthur's hip and around his waist so he could keep him right where he wanted him.

Satisfied that he'd abused that nipple enough, Antonio licked his way over to the other one. He paused before he reached it and Arthur responded by pushing himself up more. Pulling away, Antonio looked down at Arthur and smirked. “So you have a biting fetish, hm?”

“Shut up,” Arthur growled and grabbed the front of Antonio's work shirt, obviously planning to pull him back down.

But Antonio prised his hand away with both of his and kissed his knuckles. He heard Arthur's sharp intake of breath and smiled against the back of his hand. Flipping his hand over, he kissed the inside of Arthur's wrist. Then, meeting Arthur's wide-eyed gaze, he bit down, hard. Arthur's eyes fluttered closed with a low moan, his chest heaving. Beneath him, Antonio could feel Arthur's erection now that he was sitting upright and not perched over him. Since they were both still wearing trousers, he shifted slightly so that he rubbed against it through their layers. That made Arthur cry out, his hands clenching so that he held Antonio's hand and shoulder tight.

Pleased with the reaction, Antonio pulled his hands free and gently removed Arthur's hand from his shoulder. His other wrist was, of course, covered with the bunny wristband but Antonio wasn't averse to removing Arthur's clothing for him – he had, after all, imagined this exact situation several times. He held Arthur's arm with one hand and began to pull the wristband off.

That had an immediate affect on Arthur. With a distressed cry, he tried to pull his hand away. Startled, Antonio's grip on the wristband tightened even as Arthur pulled away from him, pushing himself up onto his other elbow. While Antonio had been intending to be careful with the wristband, Arthur's movement meant that it went flying across the room and out of sight. He barely had time to see a shadow of something on Arthur's wrist before he was cradling it to his bare chest.

There was a short, tense silence as Antonio tried to work out what had happened while Arthur's wide, fearful eyes stared up at him. Slowly, Antonio came to his senses and reached out for Arthur's hand. Arthur flinched and Antonio froze. With tearful eyes, Arthur looked away. “We... I... I actually need a shower- Ah, jet lag. I-”

“Arthur,” said Antonio, sternly. “Let me see.”

Another pause. Then, as a tear rolled down Arthur's cheek, he shifted and allowed Antonio to reach out and take hold of his hand. Antonio moved it until he could see what the wristband had been covering. There, clear as day, were two neat scars, lines which sliced across Arthur's wrist. Startled, Antonio grabbed Arthur's other hand and looked at it: there were no marks bar the slowly blooming mark he had left there himself. When he looked back at the scars, he noted that one of them was rather thick, perhaps deeper.

His heart was thudding in his chest as Antonio took in the implications. Abruptly, his mind began to try to imagine life without Arthur and his breathing picked up, panicked. “No. No,” he murmured. “When did this...?”

It took a moment for Arthur to reply, his voice barely a whisper. “It was before the e-pal programme. The year before.”

Antonio stared at Arthur and suddenly felt like he didn't know him. Sure, Arthur had told him about his depression soon after they became friends. Of course, he had shown him his medication at one point. But it had been pushed to the back of his mind while he tried to make Arthur happy as often as he could and then forgotten almost entirely when they became boyfriends, his own happiness taking precedence. This, though, this was new. And quite a shock.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Antonio breathed, unable to pry his eyes away from the marks.

In his hands, Arthur's arm began to shake, his whole body tense. “I didn't want to alarm you when we first spoke. Then I couldn't really find a good time to tell you.”

Tearing his eyes from Arthur's wrist, Antonio looked down at the young man. More tears were flowing from his eyes and he looked much more distraught than Antonio would have thought if he had been wanting to tell him. He understood Arthur's need to keep the past where it should be and he would have dropped the subject immediately but he felt there was something else behind what he said. When Arthur finally met his gaze after a period of silence, he noticed the shame in those eyes. Yet, there was something else as well and Antonio frowned, trying to figure it out until Arthur flinched under his intense gaze.

Fear, he realised. That was what he could see.

Shifting his hand, Antonio moved until he could lace his fingers with Arthur's hand. With a small, encouraging smile, Antonio said, “Why else?”

Arthur froze, his lips trembling as he tried to keep from crying. Then he averted his gaze, staring at Antonio's second-hand TV. “They're ugly. I don't like to show people. And I know that, when you tell someone, they always try to see them.”

Having a flashback wasn't something Antonio often experienced. However, Arthur's words triggered a memory and he remembered him encouraging a downtrodden Arthur when he'd told Antonio about a blind date he was being sent on. Back then, he had predicted that the person would take one look at him and run; Antonio had protested, telling him he was attractive, pretty, beautiful in his own way. Arthur had blushed at the praise and protested it with a grumbled, 'I'm not'.

Pulling his hand away from Arthur's, Antonio leaned forward and cupped Arthur's face with both hands, sweeping away the tears with his thumbs. “Silly,” he murmured. “You're beautiful. No... scars... are going to change that.”

Shaking his head, Arthur wriggled out from under Antonio so he could sit up. Antonio sat back on his heels, startled. “No, I... You're just saying that. Don't-” Arthur broke off and took a wavering breath. “I wouldn't blame you for thinking I'm ugly. Or for thinking that I could...” Arthur grimaced.

Working out what Arthur meant took Antonio a while. In the meantime, he had to watch Arthur searching for his wristband. When he'd found it, Antonio realised that Arthur was still scared – and he wasn't scared that Antonio found him or his scars ugly. Arthur at least half-believed him, Antonio knew. However, Arthur probably thought it was only a matter of time before Antonio wanted to leave him – isn't that what most people in fledgling relationships were afraid of? Had someone left him before, when they had found out about the scars? Antonio's heart clenched at the thought and he swore that, if he ever met them, he would definitely punch them. They were just lucky there was an ocean between them.

Just as Arthur began to slip the wristband – _his shield_ – over his hand, Antonio leapt to his feet and crossed over to him. Gently, he took hold of Arthur's hand, trapping the wristband around his fingers. Arthur's breath caught and Antonio took the moment to slide an arm around Arthur's waist. “Cariño. Te amo. And none of your scars can make me love you less.”

Arthur gaped at him. “You...”

“Mmhmm,” said Antonio and pulled Arthur's wrist towards him. There, gently, he placed a kiss over the thinnest scar. Then he pressed his lips against the thickest one, fighting down the pain he felt at seeing how close he had been to never meeting Arthur. When he looked up, Arthur was bright red, staring, chest heaving. “Do you believe me?” he asked, smile blooming across his face.

“Y-Yes...”

“Then...” Antonio gave the scar a lick and pulled the wristband fully off of Arthur's wrist. He dropped it onto the wonky armchair Arthur had found it beside. “Should we go to bed?” he asked with a smirk.

Nodding, Arthur was quick to follow as Antonio led him to his bedroom. His fears seemed to have been somewhat alleviated by Antonio's words and actions. Antonio was relived – he didn't want to have upset his boyfriend on the first day being in the same room. As for him, he noted Arthur's reaction to the kisses to his scars: if it made him happy, he would do it more.

After all, Arthur was with him now and that was all that mattered.


End file.
